I'm sorry

I have more. an interrupted stream of sparking electrons
whispers tendriling slowly outward and wrapping around me
you...
surprise me
and...
not.

and then again.


and I can't stop

let's
ta;ke the time
make the ti'me
break time
I want to jump through the surface separating and
live in the other dimension for a while
I haven't figured out how yet but it seems more and more possible
if you ask me again I might make it there
i might never come back

I have an awful headache from the sniffling. Flickering from the lamp makes ghostly shadows on the walls, taunting my restless mind even more. The sleep is far from comforting and does not take away the fatigue as it is meant to.
My mind wanders over and under, in and out of all the possible nooks and crannies and hideaways of the problems and perspectives. There is a veritable dent forming on the bridge of my nose from spectacles resting their weight there. A knot in the base of my throat from sickness or worry or both I can be sure.
Thoughts of sharp dull searing crackling relief are on my brainwaves. Only moments of despair and shock and then a distraction from the aching of decision-making.
My head does ache so awfully.

the single-cell shark

"It's not the single-cell shark," you tell me.
But I knew that.
It's a mess and you design it
destroying distant blue galaxies
while sipping on viscous sin.
I bring you a crisp white linen napkin
to wipe your lips
so the cordial doesn't stain them red.
I take care to not impinge
while cleaning small drops of spilled liquid.
Keeping my head down I strain my eyes to the side
until they have an uncomfortable ache,
trying to catch a glimpse of the screens your glazed eyes ceaselessly scour.
I see foreign letterings and faces from many of the known worlds.
You shift in your chair and I dart my eyes back to the floor, my
heart feeling like it has stopped and racing at the same time, my
stomach in a knot.
"You've done quite enough there."
Your tone is cool and quiet, and it sends an awful chill
down my back.
Hastening out of the room
I get one last look at the melange of secrets that is your work
as I pull the heavy wooden door shut.
The bolt clanks loudly and echoes in the dark hall.

night

I felt my hipbones digging into the mildly soft bed
and started thinking of writing
and then reading the writing
and then regretting

I am an open and shut case of disaster
a myriad of ineligible words, half-told stories, soft-spoken declarations
I thought we were going somewhere
my plane, now weighted down with extra baggage, was cruising along above the treeline
though not so high, it was sweet air that rushed around us
dips into the dark forest started, and I tried to pull up, again and again it happened...
we finally crashed

the pieces are everywhere
I can't even find some
there's rotting flesh all over the woods, entrails hanging from the branches, blood spattered on the fallen leaves
the bones, the bones are dry and brittle, cracking, I don't know if I can rebuild it this time

Perhaps I'd best use some manmade materials
circle the joints with copper wires
find steel plates to reinforce the wings
maybe a control or two at the front to help me with the steering
and to avoid future mishaps and fatal crashes

I need you

it is all too much for this aching head
the simplest thing would seem to be bed
but even that has lost its appeal
and the only rest would be to feel
to feel the sand underneath my soles
to hear the ocean as the sea wind blows
to smell the salt wafting in the air
to feel your hand in my tangled hair
being away somewhere with you
is the only thing I ever want to do

that's not fair or nice

tasteless tauntless wantless skinless
spine-curling wrist-cracking flesh-bruising throat-numbing
licking frosting tainted with metallic viscous liquid
tracing circular spiraling swirls around the dark wet spots in the dirt
"I miss you slightly," I think and push up the spectacles that have slid down the bridge of my nose
use teeth to retrieve a splinter from under one jagged nail
the time? the time?
check my waistcoat pocket and yes the watch is still there
my hands shake slightly as I pull out the timepiece and flick it open
there are the dials, the years months days hours and minutes that have been decided without my approval.
fingers fumble the cover back shut and slip the clock away into it's dark warm home
the specter leers overhead, it's shadowy form drifting back and forth
I make sure to keep my eyes focused downward to my startling savage display
my earthen table set with the special occasion silver
and the magnificent mangled corpse that was your abode

from the notes

note

push my fingers into the skin of your
arms through the surface to the
pulsing veins and sinews below